I stand here alone on the grey, stone foundation of a tiny island. Save a few patches of dark green moss clinging to the rock face, I am the only living thing here.

The waves crash against the rocks, rocks that have withstood their attacks for thousands of years. And then there is me, struggling to keep my footing. As I am battered by wind and ocean spray, I slowly make my way towards the only landmark within sight. A light house. Not an old abandoned one, but a pristine strong one.

It's all there is. A small shelter from the dangers all around me.

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DefinitelyTaran (joined almost 11 years ago)

Storyteller.

Writer of fantasy, plays and haiku.

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Story information

License

Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

genres

mystery atmospheric

tags

first person descriptive metaphorical atmospheric present tense

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